Innocent
by Sleeping Insomniac
Summary: Police officer Yao deals with a chatty suspect. England/China, if you squint


"What's wrong?"

Yao glared at his charge. The prisoner, a blond man with a solemn look, rested his arms against the bars of his cell and leaned forward. Yao pressed his lips together.

"You look like something is bothering you."

He was speaking English. Yao shot his charge one last warning look before turning away again.

"I know that you don't think that you can talk to me, but you can."

It was best to ignore chatty prisoners; Yao had learned that from years of experience. They were only trying to keep themselves sane, talking to walls if they had to. No business of his.

"You don't trust me."

It wasn't a question. In fact, there was some smugness to the prisoner's tone that Yao didn't appreciate. He looked up again. His charge's green eyes evaluated him steadily from behind the steel bars. Yao grabbed his baton and rapped it against the bars, and the prisoner stepped back. Satisfied that his authority and silence were reinstated, Yao put down his baton and sat down at his desk.

"I didn't do it, you know."

Yao closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. Normally, hearing a prisoner cry of his innocence would be just another day on the job, but this case _was_ a bit different. The evidence against him was highly circumstantial, and, according to his identification, he was a policeman himself in his own country. Still, if Yao decided to trust this prisoner, he would be betraying his own force and his own country's law. What good were police officers when they don't even believe in their own cause?

"Mm. Yeah, you know."

Again, the prisoner had taken a smug tone, and, when Yao turned to look at him, he was standing so close to the bars that Yao could only clearly see his bright green eyes. His stare was intense in a way that Yao couldn't say that he entirely disliked, and so he forced himself to look away again.

"You know, you're telling me more about yourself by not speaking. For instance, now I know that you speak English, since you're reacting as I expected to everything that I've said."

Yao couldn't help himself as he snapped his head in the prisoner's direction and shot him his most scathing glare. The prisoner stepped back and smiled what Yao was sure was normally a triumphant smirk but now seemed too tired.

"You know that I didn't do it. You're just afraid to admit that your bobbies were wrong."

Yao's brow furrowed. It was true, as the prisoner said, that he spoke a moderate amount of English, but he didn't quite understand all of it.

"Cops, that is. Policemen. Bobbies."

Feeling a blush creeping up his neck at the prisoner's easily reading him, Yao turned away again. He heard the prisoner chuckle behind him.

"I'm a bobby myself, you know, back in London. It's quite a good profession, isn't it? I feel that I'm protecting the good citizens of my country every day. Many times, I think, a workplace finds itself honored to have good employees, but when one is part of the police force, one is honored to be a part of the workplace."

Yao nodded along until he realized that he was agreeing with his prisoner. He heard the other laughing again.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh. I respect that you're an officer. I only wish that you would admit that you know the truth."

At that moment, another police officer walked in and came up to Yao. Shooting a wary glance at the prisoner, the officer fell into Mandarin as he spoke.

_"You were right, Officer Wang. We've just apprehended another man who fit the description - while he was trying to rob another home, no less. You must have been paying better attention to the warrant than I was...I was sure that this Kirkland joker was the one. This character we just arrested confessed on the spot."_

Yao nodded along, trying to keep his expression passive. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the man in the cell watching curiously. The other officer bowed and left, and Yao grabbed the cell keys. The prisoner watched as he walked over and unlocked the cell.

"The charges have been dropped," he said simply, being sure to use English. "You're free to go."

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You're innocent."

"For saying that you wouldn't believe me." The man's smile widened at Yao's bemused expression. "Just as you speak English, I'm not too shabby with Mandarin. It's only right to be familiar the language of the country one's visiting, isn't it? You defended me, didn't you?"

Yao handed him his things without making eye contact.

"Thank you, Officer Wang. I appreciate it. If you ever visit London, look me up. Arthur Kirkland. You may call me Artie, if you'd like." He held out his hand, and it took Yao a moment to remember the Western custom. After a moment's hesitation, he shook Arthur's hand.

"Wang Yao," he said. "You may call me Officer."

Arthur grinned. "Right, of course."


End file.
